


Three Times Maggie Sawyer Had Regrets and One Time She Didn't

by knightsgold (tamxiety)



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:31:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamxiety/pseuds/knightsgold
Summary: Regret is an emotion that Maggie Sawyer has dealt with with the familiarity of an old friend. It has bubbled up in her chest and made her breath catch on more than a few times over the years of being all the versions of herself—Maggie the outcast kid, Maggie the surly teenager, Maggie the capable cop, Maggie the alien-and-human heartbreaker. No matter the stage in her life, regret seeped through when, eventually, she did something that ended badly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing I thought of after Monday's episode. Obviously, the first bar scene is not mine and belongs to the SG writers. Hope you enjoy!

 

I.

Regret is an emotion that Maggie Sawyer has dealt with with the familiarity of an old friend. It has bubbled up in her chest and made her breath catch on more than a few times over the years of being all the versions of herself—Maggie the outcast kid, Maggie the surly teenager, Maggie the capable cop, Maggie the alien-and-human heartbreaker. No matter the stage in her life, regret seeped through when, eventually, she did something that ended badly.

Most recently, it had been the sudden departure of her girlfriend, Melissa. Or, actually, her ex-girlfriend. What had started out as a nice dinner after work had devolved into tears and a brutal break up, one that Maggie had been trying to drown in alcohol for two weeks.

“I can’t do this anymore, Maggie.” Melissa had said, sighing shakily over an untouched plate of chicken, a tear sliding down her face.

“What?” She had mumbled back, fork freezing inches from her mouth. “What are you saying?”

“I just can’t, Maggie. You don’t…you don’t let me _in_. Sometimes when you smile at me, it’s just blank. I can tell you’re still thinking about a case behind your eyes. It’s like you don’t _feel_ unless you have the badge on. Everything feels superficial…” And so it went on and on, with the addition of words like ‘sociopath’ and ‘hard-headed’ being added to the mix. Somewhere along the line, Maggie just tuned it out and continued to eat her meal while nodding where she should and fighting to keep tears out of her eyes. Her cheeks stayed dry, because you can’t grow up and outsider and let people see you cry.

            Melissa had left shortly after finishing her speech. Maggie let her go without another word. She was used to it. Yeah, maybe she had thought Melissa would be different, but, clearly, that was not the case.

            Now, she is sitting in the bar, drinking, and mulling over Melissa’s words. They were similar to what a few girls had said to her in the past, but past-Maggie had always shrugged it off. Maybe it was the confidence of youth that kept her from considering that she wasn’t all that great at being in a relationship. Or maybe she had subconsciously accepted that things would never work out the way she planned them. Regardless, those thoughts meant little to her right now in comparison to the sinking feeling in the middle of her chest that no amount of booze was chasing away.

            Regret. Not so much for the loss of Melissa, but more so for a sense that she had made it to this point in her life while missing something crucial, something inside of her that could make a person like Melissa feel cared for. Because Maggie did care. Maybe it just wasn’t enough.

 

II.

 

            Even with the weight of Melissa nipping at her heels, Maggie’s life has two bright spots: work and Alex Danvers. Usually, those two things can go hand in hand and those are days that Maggie finds herself smiling at crime scenes because she and Danvers are so scarily efficient together they make their teams useless. Danvers is smart and focused on the job and Maggie appreciates that, even though they started out a bit shaky. Theirs is an easy chemistry and with the addition of the DEO as a resource for her cases, work has become exponentially more enjoyable.

            But Danvers has been around outside of work, too. They’re actually…friends. Which is strange because never in her life could Maggie have imagined a person who could talk about alien crime scenes in the middle of setting up a shot on the pool table, drink in hand. And Danvers actually listens to what she has to say in response. Their conversations could go on indefinitely, though most of the time they don’t because they both can appreciate companionable silence after a day of making sure other people are doing their jobs right.

            Danvers is just nice to be around. So, the day she had come up to her at the bar and, well, _come out_ as best she could, Maggie had felt an instant duty of care. She had been proud to be the one Danvers had come to for help, for acceptance. It had felt like maybe this was her time to show that she had the capacity to really be there for someone. God knows how hard it was for her to go through that journey alone, scared, and confused. Danvers didn’t deserve that.

            Maggie is playing pool, per usual, when Danvers walks in the bar. She notices her before she makes it to the table and can’t help but feel a jolt of contentment at the confident way the agent walks through the bar.

            “Hey, Maggie.” Danvers grins as say strides up.

            “Danvers! Hey, I was hoping you’d show up. Any interest in a game?” Maggie asks, splaying her hands over the table.

            “Well, actually,” Danvers settled herself on the edge of the pool table, “I was wondering if you were still good for that drink you promised me.”

            “You told Kara?” Surprise flashes through Maggie. She had been expecting it would take her a few weeks to work up the nerve, but apparently Alex Danvers was braver than most. Pride quickly takes the place of surprise. “Yeah, you did! I’m so happy for you.”

            Maggie leaves her cue on the table and walks around the corner, arms open. Danvers accepts the hug gladly, even though it’s not very long. Her hands arm warm and shaking slightly on Maggie’s back, so she assumes the Danvers sisters must have just had the talk and Danvers is still coming down from the ordeal.

            “I’m buying, all night. What are you having?” Maggie ask, feeling excited by proxy. She turns to go to the bar and open a tab when Danvers catches her arm and spins her back around and….oh. They’re kissing.

            Shock freezes her for a second. It’s as though time itself has slowly to a crawl because Maggie’s brain can’t process anything but surprise and the feeling of the gentle press of Danvers lips against her own. Danvers fingers are there too, settled ever so lightly on Maggie’s cheekbones. Her hands are still shaking and now Maggie realizes that Alex hadn’t been nervous about Kara. She had been nervous about _her_.

            That is when proper thought shoves its way back into Maggie’s head. _This isn’t okay_ , she thinks. Heart dropping as the reality of the situation filters in, Maggie makes a decision. When Danvers, pulls away for air, she jerks her head back and puts a few inches of distance between them.

            “Wow…” Maggie breathes, because, yeah, _wow_. Danvers is the bravest person on Earth, maybe the solar system. And what gave her so much pride moments before has now returned to fill Maggie with a strange sense of dread.

            “I have been wanting to do that…” Danvers whispers, all soft eyes and earnest grin. God, that’s going to make this hard.

            “I can tell.” Maggie says, chest constricting while she tries to smile reassuringly.

            “What that not okay?”

            “You didn’t do anything wrong.” There is a line here that Maggie doesn’t want to cross. Danvers is experiencing a whole new world. Maggie has lived in that world, cried in it, laughed in it, done everything under the sun in it. It would be unfair to allow this to go any further, not when Alex hasn’t even dipped her toe in the water.

            “But something’s wrong.” Danvers shoulders are drawing in as she speaks, her fingers fiddling with the felt of the pool table.

            “Well…we’re at really different places. And, everything is changing for you…and everything is going to really feel heighten and shiny. And, um, you should experience that for yourself—not just to be with me.” Maggie says. She doesn’t want to be harsh about this, because Danvers is smart and sweet and caring, but she’s also going through something Maggie went through fifteen years ago. And that sets them apart. It is hard not feel like she would be taking advantage of someone who is completely vulnerable. “Look, I shouldn’t get involved with someone fresh off the boat. Those relationships never really work out.”

            If it were possible, Maggie would rewind to five minute earlier and get back to the Danvers that was smiling and light on her feet, rather than the one whose face is gradually falling with every word Maggie says.

            “I’m here for you.” She says, because something in her needs Danvers to understand the truth in that statement. “But as a friend.”

            Danvers nods and hums. Her eyes are wet.

            “Are we cool?”

            “Yeah, no, no, we’re—we’re cool.” Danvers says, turning on her heel. It’s then Maggie knows. She, once again, has messed up.

            “Alex, don’t go!” Maggie calls at the agent’s back as she nearly jogs to get away from the table.

            “I’ll see you.”

            And, just like that, Danvers is out the door, leaving Maggie standing by the pool table, hand brushing her lips. _Well done, you’ve done it again_ , the ghosts of Melissa and a lot of other people whisper to her. Maggie looks down at her feet, wracking her brain for a way she could have done that better. Because now Danv— _Alex_ is hurt in a way Maggie never intended her to be. If anything, she was trying to protect her from her own talent of imploding personal relationships. Yet, somehow she managed to do that anyway.

            “Shit.” She hisses, gripping the edge of the table. Her gaze drifts towards the wall of bottles behind the bar. Looks like she was going open a tab tonight after all.

 

III.

 

            The next time Maggie sees Alex is, of course, at a crime scene. There was a dead, unidentified alien found burned to a crisp in the park earlier in the morning, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the DEO and NCPD would she each other.

            Somehow, though, Maggie is unprepared for the punch to the chest it is to see Alex, looking exhausted, crouched over the body. Supergirl is next to her, shining in the morning sunlight. And when the Girl of Steel sees Maggie, her eyes flash with something distrustful. She moves from her position over the body to stand next Alex, putting her indestructible body between her coworker and Maggie’s line of sight.

            Fortunately, other peoples’ distaste has never been able to stop a Sawyer. Maggie swallows the knot in her throat and walks over to the body with as much confidence as she can muster, because they are working and there is no time for interpersonal issues at work. Supergirl looks like she wants to fry her with her heat vision, but remains silent. 

            “What do we got here?”

            Alex doesn’t even look up, “As far as we can tell, it may be a Jedite. The lab is going to run tests.”

            “How did it die?” Maggie asks, squatting down to get a better look. As soon as she does, Alex stands up and starts stripping her forensic gloves off her hands.

            “The autopsy will figure it out.” Alex states. Maggie tries to keep her eyes on the body, but she can hear the crunch of Alex’s boots turning away.

            “Danvers! Come on, what’s up?”

            Alex doesn’t answer her. The flutter of Supergirl’s cape is loud in Maggie’s ears as she too begins to walk away from the body. Sighing heavily, Maggie pushes herself to her feet.

            “Alex!” She calls. The other woman’s shoulders twitch at her name. “Alex, please, will you talk to me?”

            This is really not how Maggie wanted this day to go. A crime scene was never a fun affair, but this level of uncomfortableness was miserable. That, and the prick of sadness in her chest at the bags under Alex’s eyes and the sharp clip of her words when she spoke. So, even though this is work and her CSI’s are all around, Maggie raises her voice.

            “Alex! Come back, please.”

            A few yards away, Alex grinds to a halt. Even though her back is turned, Maggie can tell her hands are fidgeting in front of her. Supergirl stops as well, and steps in close to say something under her breath to Alex. They whisper at each other for a few seconds until Supergirl nods. Slowly, Alex turns around, keeping her eyes on the sky the whole time. She crosses the distance between them without once looking at Maggie.

            “What is it, Maggie?” Alex asks once they’re in each other’s space again. Up close, the exhaustion is horribly easy to see.

            “I want to make sure you’re okay.” Maggie says, trying to make eye contact. “I know you were hurt after the other night.”

            “I’m fine.”

            “Alex, you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

            “I said I’m fine.”

            They are at a standstill for a moment, Alex resolutely looking anywhere but at Maggie, who wants to just grab her face and make her _see_ that hurting her was never Maggie’s intention. Instead, she settles for reaching out and clasping the agent’s arm. Alex’s eyes dart to the point where they’ve made contact and she shies away, like Maggie’s fingers are burning her.

            “Alex, I’m sorry.”

            “Okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Alex shrugs, even as her eyes start to shine with fresh tears.

            “Neither did you!” Maggie says, shaking her arm. “I just don’t want to…I shouldn’t….”

            “Look, Maggie, I get it. You don’t like me. End of story.” Alex tries tugs her arm away and looks set to return to where Supergirl is standing with an increasingly stormy look on her face.

            “Alex, that’s not—“

            “Maggie, _I get it_. I’m used to not being good enough, you don’t need to explain it to me.” Alex snaps. She jerks out of Maggie’s grasp and stalks back to Supergirl, who wraps and arm around Alex’s shoulders and starts leading her away. It doesn’t take super-vision to see Alex surreptitiously lift a hand to wipe at her eyes.

            If she was getting a punch to the chest before, Maggie is now feeling several shotgun blasts at once. She swallows thickly and glances around her. The CSI’s are bustling around like nothing happened, completely oblivious. The body is still there and there is still work to be done, but all Maggie wants to do right now is get a drink in her hands. Multiple drinks, for that matter. Alcohol isn’t going to solve the case or fix her relationship with Melissa or Alex but it sure could make her feel less like a wrecking ball smashing through completely innocent people.

            “Jackson!” She shouts to one of the CSI’s, hoping he doesn’t hear the tiny crack in her voice. “Get over here. We have to catalogue any fatal wounds on the body.”

 

IV.

 

            She ends up in the bar. Really, they should just give her a blanket and a pillow so she can sleep under the stools and never leave. She already keeps the business afloat by drinking up half of their inventory. It would just be a courtesy at this point.

            M’gann grimaces every time she passes Maggie another shot.

            “Are you okay?” She swipes away three empty glasses.

            “Never better.”

            “That seems unlikely, Detective.”

            Maggie downs the new shot. It barely even burns her.

            “Have you ever hurt somebody without meaning to?” She asks, handing over the glass. M’gann’s face falls, partly in sympathy, partly with something else.

            “Yes, I have.”

            “Then pass me another shot.”

            M’gann hands her the glass back, half-filled. Maggie’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t say anything as she throws it back. Then, she flips the glass over and slides it back, nodding that, fine, she’s done. For now.

            “There’s a woman—not like the usual case.” Maggie points a finger at M’gann when the waitress’s eyebrows raise. “She’s different. She’s in law enforcement too, kinda. And I was helping her get adjusted to some new changes in her life.”

            “And?”

            “She kissed me and…I turned her down. I didn’t think it was a good idea to let her do this with everything that’s going on for her. She needs to get adjusted. I didn’t want to hurt her.”

            “But, I’m guessing you did.”

            “I did my best to say the right thing, but I’m not sure if I did. I tried to explain but her feelings are still hurt.”

            “Well, maybe you should try to explain again,” M’gann’s eyes lift over Maggie’s shoulder, “seeing as she’s here now.”

            “I— _what_?” Maggie chokes, spinning on her stool to see none other than Alex Danvers tentatively walking through the front door, head low. “How did you know it was Alex?”

            “You forget I _work_ here. You’re both here constantly.” M’gann gives her a small smile. “Go try again.”

            “I will.” Maggie says, sliding off her stool. “Thank you.”

            She heads straight to the pool table, heart hammering. It’s nerve-wracking to just stand as Alex slowly weaves through the tables and patrons, so Maggie hops onto the side of the pool table and takes a seat, feet swinging just above the floor.  Each step Alex takes makes her pulse jump.

            “Hey.” She says when Alex gets close enough. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

            “I didn’t want to come.”

            “Oh.”

            “The only reason I did is because I drank all of the alcohol I had in my apartment.” Alex’s voice is scratchy and raw. The bags under her eyes are just as visible as they had been in the park.

            “I’d like to think that that isn’t the only reason.” Maggie says, tilting her head to catch Alex’s eye.

            “What other reason could there be?” Alex grunts.

            “Alex—“

            “I’m just here to drink, Maggie.”

Desperate, Maggie blurts, “You can put your drinks on my tab if you let me talk to you for two minutes.”

            Alex looks away, neck and jaw straining. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and the way her shoulders hunch over make it look like she’s trying to hold herself together.

            “Two minutes.” She says, eyes closing. “I don’t know if I can take any more than that.”

            Maggie’s body sags at that. It is physically painful to see Alex like this, so hurt and tired. A few days ago, Alex had been in the same spot, joy pouring out of her, joy that was directed at Maggie. So if she has two minutes, she’s going to make the best of them.

            “I am sorry for hurting you. I didn’t think about what that would feel like for you, I just wanted to do the right thing. Be a good friend to you.” Maggie feels like she’s pleading with Alex to _understand_ that the last thing she wants is to see her lose that smile. That beautiful, beautiful smile.

            “Yeah, ‘friend’, like you said.” Alex mumbles.

            “No, no, Alex. That’s not what this is about.” Against her better judgement, Maggie stretches her hands out to Alex. The other woman stares at them like they’re alien and, ha, that was irony at its finest. “I’m going to say something important to you and I need you to really listen. Can you do that?”

            Indecision plays across Alex’s face. Maggie holds her breath. Then, ever so carefully, Alex lifts her hands and rest them in Maggie’s palms.

            “Okay.”

            “I stand by what I said.” Maggie says, holding tighter when Alex’s hands twitch like she’s going to pull away. “Because I said it to protect you. It’s the truth—you need time to find your own way. You can’t do that wrapped up in me. But, Alex…what you said in the park, that was….so wrong, Alex.”

            “What—?”

            “How could you _ever_ think you weren’t good enough?” Maggie bites out, feeling angry and sad and wounded _for_ Alex. “You are good enough, Alex Danvers. You are more than good enough. Never forget that.”

            Tears spring into Alex’s eye and, Christ, Maggie has had enough of seeing her cry. Throwing her original plan to the wind, Maggie tugs Alex forward, in between her legs, and slings her arms around her, drawing her as close as she possibly can.

            “Don’t cry, Alex, please. You’re good enough. You’re good enough.” Maggie practically growls into her leather-clad shoulder. “I didn’t say that because you weren’t good enough for me. I said it because you are _too_ good for me. I want to help you and it’s killing me that I hurt you the way I did.”

            Alex smells like alcohol, leather, and vanilla. Her chest is heaving so hard that Maggie slides her hands up her back to rub soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

            “You’re being very hard on—on yourself.” Alex croaks into Maggie’s hair. “I know you were right. I guess that night I was just hoping…”

            “ _You_ don’t have to explain yourself.” Maggie leaves on hand on Alex’s back and brings the other up the nape of her neck. Alex’s laugh is watery, but it’s a laugh. Maggie can’t ask for much more than that.

            They stay like that for an indefinite amount of time, until Alex’s breathing evens out. She’s the one to break the embrace, leaving Maggie with chills from the loss of warmth. Both of them are still a little teary-eyed, Alex more so than Maggie, and when they finally make eye contact, they both laugh.

            “So, do you understand now?” Maggie asks.

            “I understand.”

            “Do you forgive me?”

            “I don’t know.” Alex shakes her head. “I might if you were serious about putting my drinks on your tab.”

            For the first time in a while, Maggie smiles.

            “Sure thing, Danvers.” She grins. In this moment, her chest feels lighter, Melissa is barely a memory, and, for once, it seems like she is going to replace her old friend, regret, with a newer on. One who was setting up a game of pool and wiping her eyes, her smile faint, but real. She likes the new friend a lot better.


End file.
